note: Yoww! Here we go again. Ok, here's the deal with "Amends." It will be told from the POV (first person) of three different people. Each narrator gets every third chapter, but I will make a note of who is narrating (as you'll see below) just so there's no confusion.

To everyone who read "Epic" and is sticking around to read this, THANK YOU! I cannot say this enough! I'm pretty sure this story will be shorter than "Epic," and it should tie up any and all loose ends...

To anyone who clicked on this story, but hasn't read "Epic"... I was going to write a summary of "Epic" to go in this first chapter, but there are just too many details to be able to do it justice. If you are at all interested in this story, or its predecessor, I really suggest that you just read "Epic." I know it seems like it's long, but if you tackle a few chapters each day, you will be done in no time. It is summer, after all. :)

As always, I'm open to all feedback. You guys need to keep me on my toes. Alright, here we goooo...


one: Sofia – anticipation


I let out the breath I had been holding and opened my eyes. Swifty smiled up at me, or smirked, really. His teeth were white in the dim light and he played with an unlit cigarette.

"You look fine," he said, the smile in his voice.

"I'm dirty," I said flatly, looking down at my dress. I could feel the sand and dirt under my fingernails. He followed my gaze.

"Your dress is black," he said. "That means that you can't see the dirt."

"You don't see the dirt," I countered, "he does. He will." I stood, restless.

"Don't fall," Swifty said, and lit a match. The flame flared up and showed the empty spots under his eyes. I balanced on the steps and watched him take in a breath and then let his head fall back against the wall. He blew the smoke out up toward the ceiling we could not see.

"How much longer?" he asked. I sat back down and shrugged.

"Why?" I said, "Do you have somewhere to be?" His teeth flashed again in a quick smile, but he did not answer.

"I don't see why you're so nervous," he said then, changing the subject… changing it back to me. "What is this, your first date?"

"Swifty, stop. I'm not in the mood to argue." I rubbed some dirt off my knuckles and then asked, "Where do you think Race is?"

He did not answer for a long time and I thought that he was ignoring me. Finally, he just tapped the ashes off his cigarette and said, "I don't know." I thought it was a long time to think for such an easy answer. It had been a few days – Dark time – since we had left Race and Dutchy in the maze behind Swifty's house. By now, they had already reached the Lodging House and given Specs the Cure. I knew that they had done this, but Swifty didn't believe me. He said that you couldn't always just trust your feelings.

But I knew. And why shouldn't I? I had made the Cure; I had put some of myself into it just because of that. I knew. I knew Specs was safe, and Dutchy was probably with him. But Race? I had no idea where Race was, and it worried me. I thought about it a lot, because there was a lot of time to think. Swifty and I had been running for a while, running and hiding, and that meant a lot of time to sit and be quiet… and think. I thought about Spot, and Race, and sometimes I thought about Boots. The only one of those that Swifty would talk about was Spot, and that's why he would not let it be. We didn't have much else to talk about, not that we could both agree on, at least. I decided to try.

"You could find him," I suggested.

"What? Find who?"

"Racetrack, Swifty. You could find Race. I'm sure he needs a friend."

Swifty laughed. "Yeah, okay, right. Are you kidding? As we speak the kid is probably drunk off of a dozen free beers. He just saved the day, and he's back where he belongs. He's back at his precious lodging house." He rolled his eyes, and then added, "Besides, he's not my friend."

I expected this. "No? Then what is he?"

"I don't know. Just some kid."

"No…"

"An acquaintance."

"Swifty…"

"He's an ex-friend, alright? How does that sound?" I didn't answer. "I know what you're going to say, so don't bother. I know what you want me to do, but I can't, okay? I'm not like you, I… can't just forgive people when they hurt me."

I looked down at my hands. Swifty had said too much, but I had meant what I said before. I was not in a good place, I did not have it in me to argue. Swifty must have realized that he had crossed some line, because he did not say anything else, and he also looked down. The stairwell was so quiet, it was almost loud. I crossed my legs, dragging a foot against the step, just to hear the sound.

I was surprised when Swifty decided to break the silence. Usually, Swifty preferred things quiet. "Tell me about the last time you saw him."

I looked at him sharply. I had no words. What if I asked him the same question, about his Maddie? He would get angry. I sighed.

"If you are trying to distract me, and take my mind off it, you are not doing a very good job," I said. I wondered why he cared. Maybe he was just bored. He and Spot got along fine, but they were not close. Swifty, he acted like my big brother, but it did not take much to make Spot jealous.

"I'm not trying to distract you," he said, flicking the spark that was his smoke to the ground. "I'm curious. And I'm bored. Tell me a story."

"It isn't much of a story," I said, a little annoyed that I was giving in. "You know that we had closed down the shop, the one on Fore Street. Elke was living close." I felt an ache in my heart and again I brushed at the fabric of my dress. If Swifty was my brother, than Elke was my sister, and I still had not had any time to grieve. I missed her, and this sadness hit me often. "I woke up, and he was gone. I made lunch, he was not there to eat it. I went to bed alone, and… and scared. Everything was very loud, and then all quiet. When I opened my eyes the next morning, the sky was red. I found Elke and we left Brooklyn."

"You knew."

"I knew."

"One of your 'feelings'?"

"Don't tease me," I said seriously. "I know you have a heart in there. It happens to you, too."

He let it drop. "Okay," he said, "but I didn't ask about when or how Conlon left. I asked about the last time you saw him. How did you two leave off? Good terms? A fight? How weird is this going to be? Am I going to want to leave when I see his shadow – hell, when I 'feel' he's close?"

I narrowed my eyes at his last remark. Why wouldn't he let it drop? "How did we 'leave off'?" I repeated. "Pues…" I paused and frowned, a little worried that I could not easily remember. It had been a long time ago; more than three years – Dark time. For me, it had been three years. For him? I wasn't sure. I would guess it had seemed longer. The Other side travels through time much slower. Spot was used to living over here, and I'm sure that each day had seemed at least twice as long for him.

"It was normal," I said finally. "He found me before dinner, said not to bother. Said he would be home late." I put the day together in my mind and remembered more and more. "That meant that he would be back after I had fallen asleep. He would come inside and try not to wake me up, but I would… it was a… a routine. He would climb into the bed, and put a hand on my waist, or kiss my forehead, and I would wake up, and find his hand, like I wanted to make sure he was real…" I trailed off, afraid that I had said too much, but Swifty looked at me with real interest, and a kindness that I had not seen in his eyes for a while.

"You should stop drinking," I said, embarrassed, and I guess looking to embarrass him, too. He hadn't had time to find a drink since we had left his house. He had been unhappy about it for a while, and still was, I think, but there were times like this, when he was back to normal. I would have liked for him to stay in these moments.

He just raised an eyebrow. He knew what I was trying to do. "Keep talking," he said, resting his head back against the stone wall. "I'm not really listening, I just like the sound of your voice."

I knew he was lying, but I continued anyway. Talking, pretending things were normal, that was comforting. And, somehow, remembering was helping me. Maybe it was distracting after all.

"He didn't come home. Maybe I knew then, but I stayed around for that day just in case. Going to bed alone – again – was the hardest thing, even if I had done it a thousand times. You know, I'm not sure why I did not leave during the day… why I had to wait. It wasn't safe. But he wasn't after me."

"He? Brooklyn? Are you sure? He was… is… too busy keeping an eye on Conlon to worry about anything else, even the things he should. Well, I mean, except the obvious. Except recently." A slow smile came to Swifty's face. "Ha. Yeah, he looks away for one second and Conlon, the tricky bastard, runs up and stabs him in the back."

"Maybe," I said softly. I don't think Swifty heard.

"Do you remember the last thing he said to you?" he asked.

I was quiet again, thinking. I had been near the window, reading in the sunlight. He had come home, looking for something in our bedroom. He stood at my shoulder, looking past my head at words he had no interest in, and I smiled to myself, pretending not to notice how near he was. Then he touched my hair, and said –

"Don't wait up for me," I murmured.

"What?" Swifty asked, but then the door handle clicked from the outside. We both jumped up, me almost falling off the stairs in the process. Swifty grabbed my arm and steadied me. The door was locked, and the person on the other side of the wall rattled the handle impatiently. Swifty gave me a long look. "I hope this is who we think it is," he said. I just looked straight ahead, trying to calm whatever was jumping around in my stomach.

Swifty undid the latch and the noise on the other side stopped. He rested his hand on the handle, paused, then pulled it open. My heart felt like it was shaking my whole body to its beat. I tried to take deep breaths, but they were getting stuck in my throat.

Standing in front of us and blocking our path were two tall shadows. I recognized just one of them, and was confused by a rush of feelings. Why? Because he was no longer the boy I remembered? Or because I was so happy to see a face I knew?

I felt Swifty's fingers on my waist and he drew me close in what I realized was a goodbye hug. My head fit under his chin and I stared into his chest, trying not to cry. I was suddenly so scared. He pushed me away gently but did not look at me. I bit my lip and watched him walk away… he disappeared so fast.

I was left with nothing but those quiet shadows.

"Miss?" one said in a low voice. I turned to them and I'm sure my eyes were bright.

"Okay," I said. "Okay."

We left down the alley, the opposite way from where Swifty had gone. One of the boys – men – was in front of me and the other behind. They did not speak, and I tried not to think, but Swifty's questions had opened a box of memories that I had thought I had nailed shut long ago. Now they came back to me from the cracks between the boards and there was nothing I could do to stop them. I hoped that it would not be a long walk.